Collective Mutants 6: Party Like There's No Tomorr
by Rossi
Summary: Join the ordinary mutants for the end of the century!


Disclaimer:   
Mutants = Marvel  
Common People = Phil and Kielle: the archive is at [http://www.subreality.com/tcp.htm][1]  
These _particular_ Common People mutants = mine.  
Fan-fic = fun = no money = no point in suing.  


The following fanfic contains material which may challenge some readers. 

Summary: New Year's Eve at Hope Street is particularly poignant at the end of the millennium. Previous stories can be found at luba's site: [http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/][2]

Rating PG- swearing, some drug references. 

Feedback: Make a humble court clerk very happy: [Rossi@subreality.com][3] Archiving permission to those who already have it, others please let me know. 

Dedication: The last one was so big, I'm a bit worried about starting another one in case I never get to the story! To all those who have asked and encouraged and enjoyed the Collective Mutants as much as I've enjoyed writing them. This one's the last, so enjoy! 

____________________________________________________ 

"Fatimah! For the love of all that's not tacky, **no** Vengaboys!" Fish almost wailed as he and Robbo staggered down the hall with one of the beer kegs. 

"At least wait until we're too pissed to notice," added Robbo. 

"But Fish, this is a party! And this is party music!" Fatimah retorted, poking her head out of the lounge room as they passed. 

"That remains debateable," said Fish. "Whether it's music, that is." 

"If I don't put something on, Allison will be in here with that awful country music." Fatimah grinned mischievously as she pulled out her trump card. Fish considered the options for a moment. 

"How about that Madonna dance remix thing?" he suggested at last. "At least until I can get a few beers into me." With a theatrical sigh, Fatimah rolled her eyes and stomped (as much as she was able, being a human butterfly with hollow bones) off to change the CD. James has collected the speakers from every personal sound system in the house, rigging them up throughout the house and backyard. The Vengaboys were replaced by the extended version of "Holiday", and there were cheers from various corners. 

"We'll have our work cut out for us, making sure we're too drunk to notice when the 'Boys make their reappearance," noted Robbo as he and his best mate resumed the "Beer Keg Shuffle". 

"By the time we finish off this lot, plus the other two, Allison could play Slim Dusty's Greatest Hits at full volume and no-one would care. Except maybe the United Nations." Unfortunately Fish timed this remark badly, and received a whack across the back of the head with a spatula as they staggered into the kitchen. "Ow! What is it with you women and hitting me with stuff?" 

"I'll have you know I haven't listened to Slim Dusty in _years_," Allison growled, waving the implement at him threateningly. "Grant me better taste than that." 

"Exactly right," chimed in Karen as she poured bags of chips into their rather eclectic collection of bowls. "Come to think of it, I haven't even _seen_ that CD for a while." 

"She actually owns one?" snorted Robbo as Allison's ears turned pink. 

"Well she used to," Fish chuckled. "It sorta got... melted." 

"What?" Allison glared at her housemate. "How the hell do you melt a CD? They're bloody indestructible!" 

"Not exactly true." James poked his head around the back door, Cynthia as usual shadowing his every move. "Y'see, all you need to do is-" 

"I get the picture." Allison sighed. "You bastards." 

"It was a scientific experiment!" laughed Fish, managing to snag a couple of sandwiches off the plate Allison had been arranging before she tried to hit him with the spatula again. "Besides, you haven't listened to good ol' Slim in years, remember?" 

Somewhat fortuitously the door bell rang and Maneula's voice carried through the open door and down the hallway: "Hello? Anyone home? I've brought food!" 

"You'll keep," Allison told Fish as Karen went to greet the visitor. 

"Promises, promises." Fish leered at her. "If I ask nicely, will you spank me?" He ducked as the spatula came flying at his head. "She loves me, really," he told Robbo as they headed into the backyard and the temporary bar they'd set up using some milk crates pilfered from the local milk bar and a couple of planks. 

"Sure she does, mate." Robbo surveyed their handiwork. "I think this lot needs a try out." 

"It hasn't changed since the last time," James pointed out as he strung a line of fairy lights along the back fence. Cynthia was holding the step-ladder, passing him zippy-clips as he asked for them. As she glanced timidly at the Beer Boys, Robbo winked at her, and she ducked her head so a curtain of black hair fell across her face. 

"Miss me, sweetheart?" Robbo mock-leered at the shyer member of the Twins Of Evil. Cynthia's blush deepened. 

"I think I'll go see if Fatimah needs help," she murmured, and fled. James frowned at Robbo. 

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to talk her into coming here tonight? Do me a favour, try not to scare her off?" 

"You planning on getting lucky tonight, Geek Boy?" mocked Robbo, the beer in his glass already well on its way to joining its fellows: Robbo had started drinking on his arrival, and wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. James' pale blue eyes glittered. 

"Robbo, you're being a tool," Fish admonished his best friend cheerfully, with an apologetic look at James. "Tell Jim here you're sorry, or you'll find yourself at the receiving end of a nasty booby trap come morning. 'Do not meddle with the affairs of techno-wizards, for they are subtle and have very strange senses of humour.'" 

Robbo smiled at James with his usual irrepressible humour. "I didn't mean it, mate, I was just trying to be funny." James snorted. 

"'Trying', but failing miserably. Just leave her alone tonight, okay? It's not her fault she's so shy. I practically had to drag her here tonight, and I want her to have a good time." Robbo held up his hands in mock-surrender. 

"Okay, okay, I'll leave her alone. Won't come within five feet of her, is that enough?" Mistrustful of the mischievous glint in the Economics student's eyes, James merely grunted and continued with the lights. 

In the kitchen, Allison nearly tripped over Cynthia as she pulled a tray out of the oven. 

"Woah, hey, watch it!" she exclaimed, managing to set the tray down on the kitchen table before it was upset. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, Cyn?" 

"Home. I have to... um... that is I thought I should..." 

"Robbo been giving you grief?" Allison asked, glancing out the window to where the culprit was 'testing' the newest keg. Cynthia didn't answer, but ducked her head. "Right then." The expression in Allison's own blue eyes didn't bode well for Robbo as she made to go out into the backyard. 

"Please, don't say anything!" Cynthia exclaimed in an agony of distress. "He didn't actually say anything to me, it's just me being silly, and I don't want to cause any trouble..." 

"Robbo's a nice bloke sometimes, but most of the time he's just a dickhead," Allison told her. "All right, I won't say anything. But that doesn't mean we can't have ourselves some fun." 

"Fun?" Behind the thick glasses, Cynthia's eyes opened wide. "What are you going to do?" 

"Show off some of this great control everyone keeps saying I have," Allison said with a dangerous grin. She winked at Cynthia, and stared hard at Robbo through the window. Or rather, at the glass in his hand. 

Outside, Robbo took a long swallow of beer, then frowned and looked down at his glass. 

"What's up?" Fish asked, downing his own beer with the consummate ease of a second year medical student. 

"Beer's warm." 

"Mine's okay." Frowning, Robbo tipped the rest of his glass on a handy patch of lavender and drew himself another. He pulled a face as he took a swallow. 

"Bloody hell! This one's warm too!" He looked at Fish. "You sure these kegs are okay?" Fish looked hurt. 

"Johnno's finest. He's a mate; he wouldn't rip me off." He pulled another beer of his own. "Must be you, mate. Mine's fine." 

"I don't get it." Robbo tried to finish his beer, pulled a face and fed it to the lavender. From his spot on the ladder, James raised an eyebrow and looked over at the kitchen window, where he could see Allison and Cynthia. Giggling. 

James grinned, and continued putting up the lights. 

____________________________________________________ 

At the front of the house, Karen was helping Manuela and her son Roberto unload the small red hatchback that seemed full to the brim. 

"Manuela, there's so much! We'll never eat all this!" Karen protested laughingly. Manuela merely shrugged. 

"I know young people. You'll finish it." She indicated Roberto. "This one's eating me out of house and home." 

"Mu-um," Roberto complained, rolling his eyes. "Next thing you'll be saying is how much I've grown." 

"Well, you have!" Karen made a show of craning her neck to look the sixteen year old in the face. "At least another couple of inches since I saw you last." 

"Got a new trick for you," he grinned, teeth flashing white against his olive skin. Karen reflected briefly that he'd be quite a looker once he filled out and the acne cleared up, with that dark curly hair and chocolate brown eyes. "Watch." She giggled as he started juggling three bread rolls he'd pulled out of a bag in the back seat of Manuela's car. 

"And the trick is?" she asked, watching the rolls be tossed higher and higher. "You were juggling last time I saw you." 

"Yeah, but now there's a twist. Look, Ma, no hands!" Roberto put his hands behind his back, but the rolls continued their ariel acrobatics as he followed them with his eyes. 

"You _have_ been practising," Karen crowed, her smile brilliant. 

"He has," Manuela affirmed, practically beaming with pride in her son. "Although he nearly drove us mad until I got him some of those soft beanie ball things." 

"Hackey sacks, Mum," Roberto corrected. He grabbed the plastic bag and let the rolls drop into it. "They don't break or make a noise when you drop them," he explained to Karen. "Not like eggs. Or tennis balls." 

"It's great to see you've learned to use the TK so well," said Karen as she took a couple of trays from Manuela and headed back into the house. Behind her Roberto TK-snagged the awkward shaped items and followed. "Are you staying for the party?" 

"I dunno..." Roberto looked a bit uncomfortable. "My 'path shielding isn't all that great yet." 

"Nothing but happy vibes from folks here tonight," Karen wheedled. "Isn't that right, Ali?" 

"Isn't what right?" Allison turned her attention from the back garden, where Robbo was peering suspiciously at his glass. "Rob!" She spun and grabbed the teen in an enthusiastic hug. "I haven't seen you in a donkey's age!" 

"Not since you 'graduated'." Roberto's reply was as bit breathless, but he sounded pleased as well. Karen gave Cynthia a wink, and Roberto blushed, catching a trace of her thoughts. 

*I do **not** have a crush on Allison!* he protested hotly into Karen's mind. She only laughed at him. "Caitlin keeps asking me about you're doing," he added out loud as Allison let him go. 

"She does? Oops. I did promise I'd call her..." Allison shifted guiltily, and then noticed Manuela behind her son. "Manuela! You've brought too much food!" 

"It's not much of a celebration without it." Manuela smoothed down her floral print dress. "Actually, the rest of the food in the car is for my family- we're having our own party." 

"Roberto grimaced. "Mum, is it all right if I stay here? Those parties at Zia's, they're so boooorrring. I always end up babysitting." 

"Your aunt will be disappointed if you don't..." Manuela's tone was reluctant, but not negative. "And what about your telepathy? Won't all the people strain your shields?" 

"No more than at Zia's. It's the end of the millennium, Mum. I don't want to spend it covered in toddler drool and listening to Zio Carlo's stories about the farm in Spain and how good we've got it now while he makes me get his beers." Roberto did his best 'mostly harmless' look. "Please? Karen will keep an eye on me." 

"Fine, then. Stay. Have a good time. But **no** drinking. I am not taking you to your grandmother's tomorrow with a hangover. I mean it." 

"No worries, Manuela," Allison said with a smile. "I'll make sure he behaves." 

"And he can sleep on the couch," Karen added. "Getting a taxi tonight will be impossible." 

"All right then. I'll come by and pick you up at 10.30, okay?" Much to Roberto's dismay, his mother gave him a hug and a kiss. "Be good." 

"MUM!" Roberto practically wailed, while the others giggled. Manuela merely wiped the lipstick mark off her son's cheek. 

"Tomorrow, then," she said, giving Karen her own hug. "Happy New Year!" 

"Happy New Year!" Allison added as she was engulfed in soft floral cotton and Manuela's perfume. 

No sooner had she driven off, Roberto looked around at the three girls. "Let's get this party happenin'!" 

____________________________________________________ 

By seven that evening, things at 74 Hope Street were well and truly "happenin'". The house was, as James joked, 'packed to the gills'. Unfortunately, the pun was within earshot of Fish, who poured his beer over James' head. Even more unfortunately, James had been rewiring the doorbell at the time, and was now wandering around with a dazed look and an interesting new spiky hairstyle - "Our own Yahoo Serious", Allison teased. The doorbell fared less well, managing a half-hearted version of the opening bars of "1999" by Prince. James had been aiming at "Welcome To The Jungle", the Aerosmith version. 

The house was indeed filled to capacity, people spilling out onto the footpath at the front, while quieter groups chatted on Fatimah's balcony and waved at passersby. Making her way from the front of the house to the back - "Hi, how are you? Thanks for coming. Did you have a good Christmas? Beer's out the back." - Allison wrinkled her nose at the pungent sweet smell of dope coming from the lounge room. Sam had brought her usual party treat, and some friends to smoke it with. None of the household indulged, thanks to what was now known as "The Unfortunate Hash Brownie Incident" after a gift from Sam had had some interesting consequences. Fish was seriously considering expanding their impromptu experiment into a full thesis topic if he went into medical research: "The Effects of Cannabis on Control-Based Mutant Powers". Karen and James would have preferred to forget it altogether, and it had taken a new paint job to cover the scorch marks Allison had left on the ceiling. Luckily their landlord, who had lived in the house as a student himself in the early Eighties, had accepted their story of an exploding heater. 

"Hey Allison! Come here for a minute! I need to ask you something!" Allison paused and stuck her head around the lounge room door at Sam's summons. The English major was on the couch with several friends from the university's mutant rights group; Allison noted with wry amusement that the biggest "freaks" of the group were the human members. Besides Sam's blue hair, there was a bloke with facial markings who called himself Talon. His student card showed a rather boring-looking Commerce student by the name of Gavin. Allison had to give him points for the tattoos 'though - they would have to have been painful. 

"What's up?" she asked, trying not to inhale the smoke haze too much. 

"We're playing a game and we need you to tell us something," Sam said. She waved a CD case in Allison's direction. "Whose is this?" The pyrokinetic squinted through the smoke. 

"The Killing Heidi one? That's mine," she said; Sam's face fell. 

"Are you sure?" 

"'Course I am." 

"Sucked in, Sam, you lose. Another point to Nikki," Talon/Gavin chuckled. 

"Let me guess, you're playing 'Match The CD To The Housemate' again?" Allison shook her head. "You guys do this every party we have." 

"We always get too stoned to remember which one belongs to who," giggled Nikki. "Stop sulking, Sam, you got that Red Hot Chilli Peppers one right." 

"We'd ask you to join in, 'cept you'd have an unfair advantage," Talon/Gavin said, grinning at Allison. He'd had his canines filed to a more obvious point, she noticed. 

"Damn, and it looks like so much fun too," Allison replied with a mock pout. "I'll come back later when you're finished." 

"Bring food!" giggled Sam - Nikki was whispering in her ear, and it tickled. 

'So, Sam's after Nikki now. Interesting,' Allison thought as she continued slowly down the crowded hall. Sam wasn't known for her long-term relationships - the last time Allison had seen her, she'd just broken up with Carol, a Gamma-level telepath who claimed she could talk to furniture. Sam was all right, she supposed, but Allison found her a bit too earnest. Take the hair - Allison had heard her trying to pass herself off as a mutant at the James' welcome party to one of the cyberpath's mates, when Allison knew full well that her natural colour was dishwater blond. A regular mutant groupie: Karen's mutant rights activities had attracted a bevy of human students who felt the genetic lottery had done them a disservice in the cool stakes. They actually enjoyed being heckled occasionally on the streets, although quick to proclaim their humanity if things looked like turning violent. Karen said they were at least trying to understand how it felt to be a mutant - Allison and Fish thought they were being wankers. 

She caught sight of James and Cynthia in a huddle of engineering fellows on the stairs. Cynthia was describing something with unusual verve, her gestures extravagant. If Allison didn't know for a fact that the shy girl never touched alcohol, she would have said she was drunk. James gave her a brief wave as she passed, before jumping into the conversation himself. It sounded very technical - it sounded like English, but made no sense at all to Allison. 

"I still don't think it's possible," complained Brian. "Every time I try it that way, I'm history." 

"You have to get the timing exactly right," Cynthia explained. "You have to wait until the first pedestal comes down before you jump, and then it's a recurring pattern. It can be a bit rough on the keyboard; that's why I prefer the joystick for that part." 

"I still think Tomb Raider's better," said James. 

"That's only because you like ogling Lara Croft. Give me Final Fantasy any day, it's much more challenging." James pulled a face at Cynthia, but said no more. 

"So is it true Allison's leaving?" asked Brian. He was a thin bespectacled boy who could have been Bill Gates' younger brother. He borrowed James' notes whenever he missed class, which was more frequently than he liked: he worked to put himself through university, and his boss thought nothing of calling him in at practically no notice. 

"Yeah," James said, looking glum. "Her brother's coming for her next week." 

"It'll be a shock for you guys, having to do your own cooking and cleaning," teased Cynthia. James looked even glummer. 

"Shit, I hadn't thought of that. I wonder if her brother will notice if I take the coil out of his car so it won't go and she has to stay?" 

"Don't you dare, James!" scolded Fatimah, hanging over the banister at the top of the stairs. "Allison wouldn't thank you for it." 

"I was only joking." 

"Good. But I'm keeping an eye on you any way. Honestly, between you and Fish..." 

"What about Fish?" asked Kate, the other of the two girls in James' cohort. She was a Science student planning on changing to Chemical Engineering next year. 

"I'll let James tell you, Adrian's waiting for me," giggled Fatimah, disappearing from view again. She continued along the landing to join Adrian on the balcony outside her window, empty for the moment apart from them. "Now, you, what's this surprise you said you had for me? I'm going crazy with the waiting!" 

"It's not my fault you have no patience," teased her boyfriend. "I've been trying to get you alone all night so I could tell you. Talk about being a social butterfly." He chuckled as Fatimah smacked him on the arm for the dreadful pun. 

"Tell me what?" She stomped her small sandalled foot in frustration. 

"I got that promotion I was after. They told me just before I left." 

"The one in Sydney?" Fatimah's antennae visibly drooped as Adrian nodded. "Oh." 

"Is that all? Aren't you happy for me? The money's great, I'll be taking on more responsibility, and they'll even help me relocate. It's a great opportunity!" 

"I _am_ pleased for you," Fatimah said, but the quaver in her voice said otherwise. She missed the mischievous glint in Adrian's eyes. 

"I picked you up a little something while I was up there. Maybe that will cheer you up." He dug through his shorts pockets, pulling out a small gift-wrapped box. 

"I don't think so," Fatimah sighed, thinking Adrian was acting very relaxed about leaving her for good. Perhaps he had found someone else to go with the new job? 

"And while you open that, I've got something else to tell you. Well, ask you, really..." 

____________________________________________________ 

Karen was in the back yard, laughing at Fish and Robbo's recreation of the movie "Cocktail". Only since there wasn't much else to drink besides beer and soft drinks, the results were increasingly alarming. Especially when the bartenders were drinking the results themselves, since no-one else would. Then she heard Fatimah's delighted shriek and watched the Turkish girl's joyous tumble through the air above the house as she took the quickest route (for her) from front to back. 

"Fatimah, what the hell..." was as far as she got before being bowled over by sheer enthusiasm. She wound up on her back with Fatimah sitting on her stomach. 

"Adrian's asked me to marry him! Isn't that wonderful!" she burst out. "See? He bought me a ring and everything!" Karen coughed and blinked up at her winged housemate in some confusion. 

"Let me guess. You said 'yes'?" Fatimah's squeal and hug were answer enough. "Um, that's great, Fatimah. Mind letting me breathe?" she managed to croak. 

"Let me," Adrian chuckled, lifting his fiancee off Karen and putting out a hand to help her up. When Fatimah had taken flight, he guessed where she was going and headed for the backyard at a more sedate pace. 

"I take it congratulations are in order," Karen said wryly, brushing dust off her bum. "So, when's the big day?" 

"As soon as we can," Fatimah answered, snuggling under Adrian's arm. "Before we move to Sydney." 

"Sydney?" 

"I've gotten a promotion, but it's with the Sydney office. I didn't want to leave Fatimah, and I knew she wouldn't shack up with me, so I decided to pop the question." 

"Oh-kay," Karen said at last, digesting this information with effort - she'd been a frequent customer of the Beer Boys. Then she smiled, and grabbed the pair in a hug. "Congratulations!" 

That broke the ice. Everyone moved forward to offer their congratulations or commiserations to the happy couple. Over by the bar, Fish laid a hand on Allison's arm as she moved to join the throng. 

"Don't say it," he warned. Allison gave him one of her Looks; this one practically sizzled. 

"Say what?" 

"'Are you sure you know what you're doing?', or anything else like that. I can see it all over your face." 

"I'm surprised you can see anything, the amount you've been drinking," Allison retorted. "You can't agree with this, Fish, she's only nineteen for Christ's sake. She's throwing her life away." 

"Who said I agree? I'm just not going to say anything until tomorrow. No point spoiling tonight. Remember?" 

"I remember," Allison sighed. "Fine, I'll go and make with the happy noises. But I _will_ give her the concerned friend talk as soon as I sober up tomorrow." 

"We can take turns," Fish agreed. He seemed to realise he was still holding Allison's arm and hurriedly let go. "Let's go make happy noises, 'kay?" 

____________________________________________________ 

The night eased on towards midnight. People got drunk enough to sing "Land Down Under". Fatimah, high on happiness and the romance of it all, took to the air and danced on butterfly wings, fluttering just above Adrian's head and swooping down every so often for a kiss. Karen and Allison had a moment of "I really love ya, mate" when the fact of Allison's leaving hit home through the haze of alcohol. Fish, having relinquished beer pouring duties to someone who could actually get the beer in the glass, was stumbling back from the bathroom when he caught sight of James, sitting on the kitchen floor with his back against the cupboard, effectively hidden from view by the kitchen bench. 

"Wha- Whadr-" Fish tried again, concentrating on the words. "Whaddaya doin', mate? You crook?" James opened his eyes. 

"Wha? Nah, 'm fine. Jus' needed some quiet, y'know?" Fish nodded with the solemnity of the very drunk. 

"'S the Fairy, innit?" he slurred, sliding down to sit beside James. He waved away James' surprised look with the hand not holding a beer, nearly taking his housemate's head off. "'S orright, mate. I know. Jus' 'bout ev'ryone knows, 'cept her." 

"Big bloody joke, eh?" James took another swig of the beer steadily getting warm in his glass. Half of it went down his shirt as Fish nudged him in what was meant to be a friendly way, but missed due to the fact he was seeing double. "I thought I was getting' over it, y'know?" he said, wiping beer off his face. "'Thought I had. Then she goes an' gets engaged on me." 

"It's a real kick inna guts, innit?" Fish said sagely. 

"Like Ali, y'mean?" 

"Y'what?" The question seemed to startle Fish marginally more sober. "What 'bout Ali?" 

"You've got a thing f'her. Tha's why you were so pissed off when she said she was leavin'." James seemed blithely unaware he was dicing with death. Or at least having his head flushed. 

"That's a lie! A big fat lie!" The denial would have been more effective if Fish hadn't belched loudly in the middle of it. The pair started giggling and had to have more beer to stop. "So what if I do? I'm always gonna be her best mate, 'n' tha's it." 

"Looks like we're both in th' same shit- sitch- spot," James said. "A' least yours isn't engaged. To a bloody salesman." 

"Will you two lay off? You're giving me a headache." Roberto's head appeared over the bench, wearing a peeved expression. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to block angst?" the telepath continued. 

Fish and James looked at each other, then back up at Roberto. Fish resorted to the familiar. 

"Wanna beer?" 

Roberto made up his mind in all of the half-second it took for the grin to spread across his face. 

"Thought you'd never ask." 

____________________________________________________ 

Midnight. The end of the millennium (or not, depending on which opinion you subscribed to. Brian nearly got thrown off the balcony by an irate Sam for trying to convince her that 2001 was in fact the _real_ millennium). The cries of "Happy New Year!" were almost drowned out by the fireworks that erupted overhead. Caught up in the festivities, fuelled by more than a little beer, people were hugging and kissing and dancing around, screaming "Auld Lang Syne" at the tops of their voices in an effort to be heard over the noise. It was like the end of the world, only without the Horsemen. 

Karen stood in the backyard, her face, like almost everyone else's tipped up to watch the show. Fish's arm was slung over her shoulders, more heavily than she would have liked, but at that stage she and Allison were the only things keeping him upright. The country girl had drunk almost as much as the unfortunate Med student, but she was showing it far less. Although normally she didn't sing much when sober, and she was belting out "Auld Lang Syne" with Fish with considerable gusto. Whenever he started leaning on her too much (being shorter than Karen), she jabbed him in the ribs. 

"...for the sake of auld lang syne..." 

Over by the makeshift bar, Sam and Robbo had ceased hostilities and were singing along in boozy camaraderie with Nikki and Ga... um, Talon and a few others. Roberto was there too, and Karen gave a mock-glare at the beer in his hand. He countered with a telepathic raspberry. Fatimah and Adrian were rocking gently to that music only lovers seem to hear, the tiny Turkish girl curled in his arms. Brian and Kate and the rest of what Fish jokingly called the "Geek Squad" had come out to watch the show. The yard was full of faces, bathed in coloured light and shadow, the faces of the people she knew and liked and loved. Fireworks boomed like thunder overhead, signalling an end to one year, the beginning of another, and Karen realised with a sudden lump in her throat that it was an Apocalypse, in a way, the end of the small world that had cushioned and comforted her for the past year. "...I'll take a cup of kindness yet, for the sake of auld lang syne..." 

James had cornered Cynthia over by the kitchen door, she saw, and was bending down to give her an affectionate peck on the cheek. By the light streaming through the door, she saw the shy girl turn her head so the kiss landed on her lips, saw her throw her arms around the startled boy's neck. Karen grinned. Yep, things were changing, not ending. Things would be different, but that was what living was about, wasn't it? She felt for Allison's arm, draped around Fish's waist as her own was, and gave it a squeeze. She received a work-roughened squeeze in return. With a smile, Karen joined in the last few bars: 

"...For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne. We'll take a cup of kindness yet, for the sake of auld lang syne." 

____________________________________________________ 

"Is this it?" asked David as he slid the cardboard box marked "Books" into the back of his ute with the rest of Allison's worldly possessions. 

"Yeah, that's the last." Brushing a handful of blond hair out of her face, Allison looked around at the huddle of housemates around the car. She was wearing her "travelling clothes" - shorts, bare feet and a loose tank top. "Time for us to shoot through, I suppose." 

"I suppose. You've got a long drive ahead of you," Karen agreed reluctantly. "Drive safely. There's a lot of idiots out there, with holiday traffic and everything." 

"We will." Allison shuffled her feet awkwardly, unable to look her friends in the face. "I'm really bad at this sort of thing, saying goodbye." 

"It's not something you want to get good at," said James, grinning slightly. He engulfed her in a hug. "Take care, Ali. We'll miss you. Keep in touch." 

"I'll miss you too, Blue. Try not to blow the place up, okay?" Allison gave the skinny cyberpath a squeeze, feeling bio-circuitry tickle her ear. "And go for it with Cynthia," she murmured into his ear. "I think you make a great couple." James was blushing when she let him go. 

"My turn!" Fatimah declared, smiling through the tears that were already brimming. Allison bent and gave the fairy-girl a careful hug, trying not to rumple the delicate wings. Fatimah's grip around her neck almost cut off her air supply. 

"Good luck, and I wish you well with your family," Fatimah said, the tears overflowing and dropping hotly on Allison's bare shoulder. "I still want you at my wedding, so you'd better come back!" 

"I'd be honoured, even if I do think you're rushing things," Allison replied. Fatimah gave her a playful swat on the arm. 

"Ooh, you're impossible!" Fatimah tried to glare, but the tears were dripping off her nose. "Between you and Fish, you'll drive me crazy!" 

"Good to know someone's going to carry on where I left off," Allison chuckled. She looked at Karen. "I guess this is it, mate. Look after yourself. Try not to take on so many windmills this year, okay?" 

"I'll try," Karen promised, her voice sounding tight and strange from holding back her own tears. As Allison hugged her goodbye, her control failed, and she openly sobbed. The pair stood for long minutes, dark against the fair one, until with a sniffle Karen disentangled herself. Allison's own eyes were red-rimmed, her nose pink. "You deserve this, Ali, you've worked hard. Just remember, you can visit any time. The couch is yours." 

"And aren't you lucky I'm leaving it?" Allison joked with a watery grin. "Don't worry. You'll be sick of me turning up on the doorstep." 

"Never." 

Four down, one to go. Allison turned to the oddly-silent Fish, the tears threatening again. "Don't tell me you're sulking again." 

"I told you, I don't sulk," Fish replied, trying to smile but failing miserably. Without warning, he grabbed Allison in a fierce hug. "Look after yourself, Hothead. I'll be thinking of you," he whispered brokenly into her ear. Surprised and somewhat breathless, Allison could only squeeze back. 

"You take care too, mate," she said when he released her. On impulse, she went on tip-toe and kissed him on the cheek. "Come up sometime; there's a B&S Ball on in February," she added quietly, so the others wouldn't hear. She wasn't sure what had prompted her to say it, but the expression in Fish's eyes made her glad she had. 

"Come on, Ali, the traffic's getting heavy," David said at last, not wanting to break up the farewells, but needing to get going. He felt awkward; this was a part of his sister's life he wasn't privy too, and watching her say goodbye to her friends made him feel he was intruding. 

"Don't get your undies in a knot," Allison replied, giving Fish's hands one last squeeze. "I'll drive for the first bit, if you like. I know you hate driving in the city." David made a show of grumbling, but slid into the passenger seat without too much protest. Allison took the driver's seat, and started the farm ute with a roar. "Don't think you've seen the last of me," she warned, leaning her elbow on the open side window. "I'll be back before you have time to notice I'm gone." 

"Promises, promises," Karen chuckled, James' arm around her shoulders as the tears streamed down her face. Allison grinned, waved, and pulled out slowly. At the end of the street she paused at the "Give Way" sign, and then was gone with a final blare of the horn. 

____________________________________________________ 

Two girls, both first year students, to judge by the conflicting combination of nervous bravado, were idly looking over the "Accommodation" noticeboard in the Union Building. It was still Orientation Week, classes yet to start, and the pair were combining the need to escape the masses with another, more prosaic need. 

"Hey," said the redhead, pointing out a notice in brightly-coloured letters. "This looks cool." Need somewhere to live?  
We need someone to live here!  
Two places available in a big cheerful terrace in Sunny Brunnie, one now, the other by Easter. Sharing with two guys and one girl, $60 per week, plus kitty and bills. Would suit fun, open-minded person, any age, any gender, mutant/"norm", gay/bi/het.   
Call Fish or Karen after hours. 

Bigots need not apply. 

"What do you reckon?" asked the redhead as her friend finished reading the ad. The other girl nodded slowly, her long slender tail swishing behind her in unconscious counterpoint. 

"Sounds all right," she said, and pulled off one of the phone numbered strips of paper at the bottom of the page. 

The End. 

Glossary:

Pissed: In Australia, pissed means drunk. Not angry. 

Slim Dusty: Country and Western singer, known for being a cultural icon of sorts. He sang "Waltzing Matilda" at the Olympic Opening Ceremony. 

Zippy-clips: Those little plastic things that are used for attaching cables to things. *looks perplexed* I don't know how else to describe them. 

"You're being a tool": A particularly bikie (as in cyclist) term for an idiot. 

Zia: Aunt. 

Zio: Uncle. 

Yahoo Serious: Aussie actor/director, known for his comedies such as "Young Einstein" and his "finger-in-electrical-socket" hairstyle. 

"Land Down Under": One of those songs that are only ever sung under the influence of alcohol. By Men At Work. 

Ute: Short for utility. I think Americans call them pick-ups.

   [1]: http://www.subreality.com/tcp.htm
   [2]: http://home.att.net/~lubakmetyk/
   [3]: Rossi@subreality.com



End file.
